Stiles? Wait, hold up, my name's Thomas!
by soap-canread101
Summary: After the Scorch Trials, the Gladers get rescued by the FBI and returned to their families with only one rule... Don't tell anyone about W.I.C.K.E.D's existence. Now Thomas must adjust to his new life as Stiles Stilinski; a clumsy, clever, sarcastic and relatively defenseless teenager who somehow has a big connection to the supernatural. Rated teen just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

I woke up slowly, completely confused and disoriented. The room was chilly, and I could feel a cold metal chair underneath me. I slowly opened my eyes and squinted at the harsh light. As I started to properly wake up, my eyes focused on my surroundings. There was a rather tall man sitting in front of me, with decently long, wavy and dark hair that was styled back. He wore an expensive suit and had a look of professionalism. It was obvious this man was wealthy and meant business. We were separated by a big rectangular metal table which held only a thick file, filled with papers. The room was very small, consisting of only the two chairs the man and I occupied and the desk. The walls, floor, and ceiling were completely white, so bright they hurt my eyes. I tried to sit up properly in my chair, only to notice I was strapped down to the chair, with only my legs free. I immediately panicked and began struggling, fighting to get free.

"Woah! Hey, stop, it's ok!" the man yelled, startled. "You're safe! I'll tell you what, you stop struggling and you promise not to run and we'll take those off." I stopped and eyed the man suspiciously.

"Who are you? What do you want? Actually, no, I don't want anything to do with you W.I.C.K.E.D shuck faces, just leave me alone!" I shouted, renewing my efforts to get out of my bonds.

"Calm down, I'm not with W.I.C.K.E.D. You're safe now. Why don't you tell me what you remember?"

"I remember your shuck faced organization putting my friends and me through the maze and scorch trials. I remember my friends dying. We got to your shuck safe haven only to get attacked. Then we got into those pod things only to pass out and wake up here. Do you think I'm dumb? You've already 'saved us' before! So how 'bout you shanks take your shuck lies and shove them up where the sun don't shine. I'm done with this, and I'm not answering anything 'till I see my friends." The man stared at me wide-eyed, then burst out laughing.

"Man, they told me you were feisty, but I was not expecting this! Oh my gosh! That was great, but please save your energy, we have much to discuss. As for seeing your friends, everything will happen in due time. I would like to speak with you, preferably without the restraints, so as long as you promise not to run or attack anything those can be taken off. You listen to all I have to say and then I will answer any question you may have. Deal?"

The man seems different in a way I just can't place. He seems nothing like the W.I.C.K.E.D shanks I've met before, but they've tricked us before.

"Ok fine, just one question though... How do I know you're not just tricking me?" The man smiled not unkindly.

"Because we would like to get you back to your families," he stated. I stared at him in shock.

"What families? They were all killed by the flare! I remember my mom and dad, they're both dead, driven to insanity!"

"I'm sorry to inform you but that just isn't true..." he sighed. "Just as W.I.C.K.E.D. can erase your memories, they can also plant fake ones." As the man continued to speak, a woman with a kind smile came and undid my restraints. She nodded slightly at me, but I didn't feel the need to return her greeting.

The man continued to explain that throughout the scorch trials, we never really left the facility. We were in another big, underground arena where we were monitored and tested on. The sun flares never happened and the disease has not yet been released. W.I.C.K.E.D found a bunch of us teenagers who were immune to the flare and strived to find a cure before they actually used it. The reason the FBI (which is apparently the organization this man works for) was finally able to save the Gladers was that W.I.C.K.E.D. had finally discovered the cure and has no further use for us. The Gladers who are not immune have already been administered the cure. I, luckily, am one of the immunes.

"Wait, so if the flare was never released, then who were those cranks? Please tell me they weren't some shank actors or something. Oh my gosh, I didn't just kill some random shanks did I?" I asked slightly panicked.

"No, don't worry. Those were people who were actually infected with the flare. The disease just hasn't been released into the real world yet," the man reassured me as if that were supposed to make me feel better.

"So, why was W.I.C.K.E.D experimenting with the flare? They don't plan to release it or anything right?"

"What W.I.C.K.E.D is planning is none of your concern, Stiles. Not anymore," the man said. "Now you just need to focus on readjusting to your old life."

"Excuse me, what the hell is a Stiles?" I asked bewildered. "My name is Thomas!"

"Not anymore," he sighed. "If you want to ever see your family again you must start referring to yourself with the name Stiles Stilinski."

"Ok, what's that supposed to mean? Why do I have to change my name?"

"Stiles was your old name, from before W.I.C.K.E.D wiped your memories. Well, it's actually Mieczyslaw, but we're not going to get into that now. Everything you need to know about your old life is in this file sitting in front of me. Study it thoroughly and memorize each and every detail. It's not as good as getting your original memories back, but we don't know how to do that so we gotta settle with this. Ok, now I need you to sign this document right here, with your real name, preferably." The man slid a piece of paper to Thomas.

"What is this? Why can't I just change my name to Thomas? Would one of you shanks just explain clearly what the shuck is going on!?" I exclaimed, frustrated.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I was just getting ahead of myself," the man sighed. "The government doesn't want people knowing about the existence of W.I.C.K.E.D and what they have done. It could cause a scandal, you see. So we need you all to go back to your families with all of the knowledge and habits you had before the maze. We can't let ANYONE find out about this, you hear? By signing this document, you're agreeing to the 2-month training program it will take to get you back to your old self and guaranteeing that you will speak of nothing that happened in that facility to no-one. If you refuse to sign you will be incapable of living in the normal world, and will by consequence be put into a mental facility where nobody would believe you anyway."

I reviewed my options. While I didn't trust these shanks whatsoever, I realized that I had no other choice. I definitely did not want to end up in a mental facility for the remainder of my life. However, even if the document does state what this man claims, I don't want to get tricked again, especially by W.I.C.K.E.D. But this is my only chance to see my friends again. I remember seeing Teresa die, that will always be engraved into my head, but I have to make sure Newt, Minho, Frypan, and Brenda are ok. Hesitating I asked one more time,

"How do I know you're not just W.I.C.K.E.D. trying to trick me again? How do I know you shanks aren't just gonna throw me into another phase of experiments or erase my memories again as soon as I sign? How do I know this isn't just another test?"

"You don't," the man replied. "We have already realized that there is nothing we can do to make you trust us, you've gone through too much. But I'm not seeing any other option for you at the moment... Do you?"

Realizing that the man was right, I forced my hands to stop shaking, picked up the pen and wrote down my signature as Stiles Stilinski. There was no explosion, no sudden remembrance of my old identity, nothing. The man just exhaled in relief and took the form from my hands.

"A wise choice Stiles," he said. "I'll leave you alone in here to study your history, then I'll be back to take you to your room. The rest of the boys, if they were smart enough to sign, should meet you there." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the file, sitting innocently on the desk.

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Newt, Minho, Frypan and I got into an awkward group hug. Yesterday was the last day of training, meaning that we were now ready to get back into the world and meet our families.

Turns out that we were all smart enough to sign the form and got reunited in our room. Knowing our history together, the FBI decided to make Newt, Minho, Frypan and I roommates. Weirdly, all of their names were the same inside and outside the maze. W.I.C.K.E.D only changed mine cause Mieczyslaw was too much of a pain to pronounce. The biggest shock, however, was Brenda. Turns out that she was working for W.I.C.K.E.D, planted into the scorch to ensure that everything went according to plan and to conduct tests up close. That betrayal hurt almost as much as Teresa's.

Although we were all sad to be separated, we were all excited to start our new lives. I've been spending the last two months re-learning how to be Stiles Stilinski. I had to practice being clumsy, had to tone down my athleticism and wear loose clothing to mask the muscles I've built during my time with W.I.C.K.E.D. With enough practice, it eventually became second nature. The sarcastic, excitable personality wasn't very hard, seeing as it's who I am, but the facts and the speech were a bit hard to get down pat. I had to learn not only every fact about my own life but also about my friends and family. Not that there was much to learn for family, I just live with my dad. Frypan, however, had to learn everything from his 3 siblings to his 2nd cousins twice removed. Newt had almost nothing to learn. He was an orphan, so he's gonna go live with Minho, whose mom approved as soon as she was contacted by the FBI. She's a single mom who lives all the way in New York. Frypan lives in Texas. And I live in California in a town called Beacon Hills. We feel kind of anxious living so far apart from each other in case something happens, but we have each other's contact information from before the maze, so we can always stay in touch.

I had a lot of trouble initially reacting to the name Stiles, but I've gotten the hang of it. The Gladers have gotten used to referring to me by that name and we've stopped using our slang from the glade (although we address each other by our glade names and speak however we want when we're alone). We've caught up enough in the school material that we missed to at least pass our classes and we now know how to properly function in society.

Our drive to the airport was relatively silent. We were all extremely nervous and too caught up in our thoughts to speak much. My thoughts specifically have gotten a lot clearer after the maze. Turns out I had ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), and once they gave me a prescription to Adderall, things became a lot less hectic and a lot more manageable.

At last, the bus pulled to a stop in front of the airport. We all assembled in front of the airport security to say our last goodbyes before we had to go our separate ways and promised to text each other as soon as we got access to mobile devices.

I boarded the plane alone with only my FBI agent who was there to ensure I got where I needed to go. The plane ride was two hours long so I had plenty of time to think about what I'm going to say to my family once I arrive. However, my thoughts kept being interrupted by Minho's last words to me before we got separated.

"Remember what we discussed, Tommy," he had whispered "I don't care who these FBI shanks think they are, but they stand no chance against W.I.C.K.E.D. Now, I don't want you getting soft on us over in California, ok slinthead? We're the only ones who can stop them. I need you to be prepared to run Thomas, don't get too attached. If we're going take down W.I.C.K.E.D we can't have any loved ones getting involved, even if they're a sheriff. I know it'll be hard without Newt there to keep your head on straight but remember your priorities and stay safe. We'll talk soon."

Although we've all agreed to that earlier, it still hurts. I'm about to be reunited with my old friends and family who've known me since I was a baby and I have to make an effort to not get attached. Life really sucks.

Once the plane landed, I had to grab my bags and wait in line for a very long time. Seeing as the FBI doesn't want a big deal made in the airport, it was decided that I'll meet everyone at my house. So I got into an inconspicuous FBI car and began the journey home.

After what seemed like forever, the car pulled up in front of my house. My breath caught in my throat. Apparently, I lived here just half a year ago, not that I can remember. I see my dad and someone else standing on the porch. Scott, I remember, My best friend. They look exactly the same as in all the pictures I studied. I wonder if they're gonna be like I imagined.

Steeling my nerves, I took a deep breath and opened the car door. It's time to meet them.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: Idk if I said this yet but from this part on there are major spoilers for season 4 of Teen Wolf and the Scorch Trials. So if you guys have not seen or read that, I suggest you stop reading now.**

_**Major changes made in this story**_ **\- Allison is alive and was possessed by the Nogitsune instead of Stiles, seeing as he was gone during that plot-point. Teresa died in the Scorch Trials. Stiles' dad still doesn't know about the supernatural.**

**Sooo on to the story**

**POV: STILES**

So... I guess life is ok. My reunion with my dad went well. There were a lot of tears shed from both parts, for different reasons, I suppose. My dad was crying obviously out of relief. It had taken him a few months after my disappearance but he soon gave up hope and stopped searching. Until he got that call from the FBI, he had believed I was dead. Actually seeing me, however, must have been really emotional for him, having that visual confirmation.

I think I was crying... well, because I didn't know what else to do. I guess it was also relief on my part. Relief that I'm finally safe, that I'm not with W.I.C.K.E.D anymore, that the FBI was actually telling the truth and there are people out there that truly care about me. I mean, nobody could fake all of that emotion.

My dad and I hugged for a long time, both taking a while to process that this was really happening. The part that hurt the most, however, was how my memories remained blank. I guess I had this hope that by seeing him, I would immediately recognize him, that my memories would suddenly come flooding back. But to my disappointment, my memories remained unforgivingly blank. The scariest part was that if I didn't spend all that time memorizing his face and studying him, I wouldn't even have recognized. I would've thought he was a random man, that I have no connection with him.

That also scares me. What if this is indeed a trick. What if W.I.C.K.E.D is testing me again, what if someone really could generate enough raw emotion to trick even us Gladers, who have been through more than you can even imagine? Surely, if this was my dad, I should have felt _some_ connection to him. But then I realize that I fit perfectly in his arms as if we've hugged many times in the past... since I was a little boy. I felt safe in his arms. Looking around the house behind him, I didn't recognize anything either, but somehow I knew exactly where to go to get a glass of water, where the washroom is, even where my room is.

I knew for sure when my dad pulled away, kissed me on the forehead and said,

"Welcome home, Stiles." Even though I had just met the man in front of me, I could tell he was my dad, just from the sheer joy and love he showed, the kind I can never remember seeing.

Then the moment was finished when Scott barreled into me with a bear hug. He squeezed me tighter than should be humanly possible. I couldn't help but laugh when he finally released me and put his arms on my shoulders. He began to speak so fast, I could barely keep up.

"Dude, I'm so glad you're finally back! There are so many things you've missed, we've all missed you so much! Where've you been, the FBI and my dad refused to tell us anything, dude I literally just cannot believe it, like-"

"Alright Scott, let a man breathe," my dad finally interjected, which I could not have been more grateful for. Scott apologized then pulled me in for another hug. I couldn't stop smiling. Although I have no memories of these people, this seemed right. I find myself bursting to tell Scott everything, to pester my dad for any cool new cases, this weird hyperactive energy I haven't felt for a long time waiting to burst out of me. I truly felt like Stiles, for the first time in what seemed like forever. But before I could do anything, the FBI man interrupted.

"Yeah, this was all really pleasing, but there are still a few things I need to before I can leave so if you'll just let me get through them? Thanks. Why don't we just go inside?"

So, we went through all the details of everything. The story we had chosen to go with was that when the evil agency found out they were discovered, they erased all my memories of the past six months and left all of us kids alone, to be rescued by the FBI. The people had tried to flee but were quickly captured by the FBI, meaning they won't be troubling anyone ever again. Unfortunately, the procedure is irreversible, meaning we will never be able to know what happened, and the people from the agency don't seem ready to spill anytime soon.

The FBI agent told them not to pester me for any details or try to get me to remember, as it may cause brain problems. (Quite an unlikely and poor excuse, but Scott and the Sherri- _my dad- _seemed to buy it sooo). It was currently Friday, and I would be starting school on Monday. Luckily, the FBI managed to pull some strings so that I could come in halfway through my Junior year and be in most of the same classes as Scott. This surprised Scott greatly, seeing as I was missing for six months.

After the FBI man left, my dad and Scott began to catch me up on what's been happening. My dad tried to convince me that nothing big happened, but I instantly knew he was lying. After reading the files on this city, I know that there's been a lot of crime lately, especially while I've been gone. Scott, probably seeing my unconvinced face, whispered that he'd tell me later. Next, we ordered a pizza and began to talk about how to get me settled in.

It was a Wednesday evening, meaning I had 4 days to settle in before I had to go to school on Monday. Our conversation got cut short when the phone rang. My dad answered the phone and began to speak in a hushed tone. After a minute or so, he slammed the phone down and swore.

"Sorry buddy," he looked at me apologetically, "Somethings happened, I've gotta go into the station. Scott feel free to stay over, but don't you boys stay up too late, understand? You may be fine to sleep in Stiles, but Scotts got school tomorrow."

"Wait, what happened?" I asked concerned, remembering all the reports about the deaths that ended about a week ago.

"Oh, it's nothing for you to worry about. You just got home and you need to rest. No running around. You guys can finish the rest of the pizza, I've had enough. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, he was out the door.

Scott immediately turned to me and began to speak excitably.

"Oh my gosh, Stiles, so much has happened while you were gone. Sorry, I had to wait till your dad left, he still doesn't know about the supernatural."

"Wait, supernatural?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, buddy, you know, the whole werewolf thing. While you were gone so many things happened, I became a true alpha, look!" and with that, he transformed into a menacing wolf thing with red glowing eyes. Not expecting it, I screamed and fell out of my chair. Remembering that I was supposed to be acting like Stiles, I pretended to know exactly what he was talking about, and after getting back on my chair and waving off Scott's profuse apologies, I decided to listen to his story.

"SO, would you mind starting from the beginning, my memory's a bit fuzzy at the moment. Like since the whole werewolf thing started?"

And so he began to explain everything from the first night in the woods when he got bit. I had disappeared right before the whole showdown between Peter and everyone else **(at the end of season 1). **After his defeat, there was the whole thing with the Argent family, Jackson becoming a Kanima, Lydia a banshee and Allison getting possessed by an evil fox spirit called a Nogitsune. (That turned out to be the cause of all the recent deaths, huh). They just got it out of her last week. Scott, with the help of desperation and the threat of an alpha pack, became a true alpha and now has his own pack. Derek is, well, Derek, there's a new girl named Malia who's a were-coyote, a girl named Kira(Scott's girlfriend, which he made blatantly clear) who's a Kitsune, and another werewolf named Isaac. Well, that's the important stuff anyway.

Contrary to what my dad said, Scott cannot stay the night, cause he's got an important project he's got to finish for school tomorrow. I know he's kinda lying, it's a new trait I picked up, being suspicious of literally everything and everyone. I let Scott leave (for his girlfriend) without a fuss, seeing as I have my own work to get done.

Immediately after Scott's departure, I went up to my room and on my laptop to do some research on everything Scott had said, trying to make sense of it all. Surprisingly, I got my password and username right first try. If it was my sub-conscience or just muscle memory, I'll never know. After about five hours of researching, I finally understood everything Scott had been talking about and knew as much about each creature as I possibly could. Next, I took an hour writing down everything I could remember about Scott's story and created a timeline. It would be there for me to check over if I ever got confused or needed help remembering important or sensitive events.

It was about 3 am when I began to feel drained and crashed. It had, after all, been a long and overwhelming day.

I awoke the next morning at 9, surprised that I had slept in for so long. When I walked to the kitchen, I found a note from my dad explaining that he had left for work, and should be back by 7. I could help myself to anything in the fridge until he returned.

After eating a healthy and plentiful breakfast, I planned my next course of action. Now that I knew there are supernatural creatures and W.I.C.K.E.D. out there, I needed to be able to protect myself.

Over the course of the next few days, I stocked up on weapons. I now had three long, sharp knives, one hidden in my belt under my loose sweater (which I was required to wear to hide all the muscle I built over the last few months), one in my shoe and one attached to the inside of my left sleeve (so as not to fall out when I did regular activities with my dominant hand). I also had a small handgun, also hidden at the waist of my pants, attached to my belt. Although it probably won't do much against a pack of werewolves, it still provided me comfort and allowed me to kick any human's ass if they dared to cross me.

While school and work were going on, I spent my time studying what wasn't covered by the FBI for school. I had a mission to fully catch up before I went back. Whenever Scott was free (which meant no school, work or Kira) we hung out, and I would try my hardest to be funny, sarcastic and normal like Stiles. It was good practice before school when I'd go back and meet with my old friends. I was slightly insulted when nobody came over to welcome me back other than Scott when my dad told me he didn't want them all to overwhelm me and convinced them all to wait until they see me at school.

At night time I would video chat with Newt, Minho, and Frypan. We would talk about our new lives, joke around and just enjoy being in each other's company. Well, electronic company. It felt quite refreshing to finally be able to hang out with them as actual teenagers, not scared test subjects fighting for survival, or even in our training sessions with the FBI. We agreed for the first month there would be no W.I.C.K.E.D talk to allow time for us to adjust, but also to never let our guard down and **never** get attached.

Then I would watch a movie with my dad, to get to know him better. Not to get attached, I convinced myself, but just to be able to act more like Stiles, and to know more about my heritage. Though by hanging out with my dad and with Scott, I can feel myself beginning to like them more, to get more comfortable, and I start to look forward to hanging out with them almost as much as I look forward to hanging out with my fellow Gladers.

I would always wake up at the crack of dawn and go on a 3 hour run through the neighborhood and the forest. I liked running and seeing as I had to constantly downplay my strength and stamina regularly, my morning runs are like my release, when I can truly be myself. Sometimes, if they're free or awake, I call Minho and Newt just to talk to them, like old times in the maze.

I would make sure to get home before my dad wakes up and make him breakfast. Cooking is, strangely, another thing I enjoy, not that I'd ever tell anyone other than my dad. First of all, Frypan would be offended, as he could be the only cook and second, Minho would never stop making fun of me. And I don't really feel like telling Scott, it just feels personal for some reason.

After the Glade and the Scorch, I feel like I'm wasting my time and my life if I'm not always doing something. So whenever I don't have something to do, I either cook, study or research. I don't know if it's my ADHD or just my work wired brain, but I always need to be busy. It also felt right to have a scheduled day, reminding me of the structured life of the Glade. Without structure and busyness, I'm lost. If my day isn't so jampacked, I start to think, and me thinking without a reason or to devise a plan is never a good thing, especially after everything that had happened at W.I.C.K.E.D.

Before I knew it, the 4 days passed. I had just finished my movie with my dad and I was getting ready to go to bed before my first day of school. There would be no cooking breakfast tomorrow after my run, there would be a quick meal and a drive to school. (I still remember how to drive, muscle memory goes a long way). For the first time since my return, my schedule was broken. I didn't know how to feel about that. At least I had the comfort of knowing that returning to school and all of its werewolf business was going to keep me very busy.

Sure, meeting everyone from my past might be nerve-racking but it's what I've been training for. I think I've gotten enough experience as Stiles to be able to sell the roll. There were times where I didn't even need to try, the Stiles just slipped out. I'm finally ready to return to the real world. Everything is going to go fine tomorrow.

With that comforting thought, I fell asleep.

**POV: Scott**

There's something wrong with Stiles. He's been different, ever since he came back.

He's constantly on guard as if he's expecting something to come out of the shadows and attack him at any second. He also seems extremely distant, as if he wants to reconnect with us, but just can't bring himself to. And don't think I haven't noticed his sudden, new strength. Whenever we do anything athletic, he always seems to be holding back. As we practice lacrosse, I could swear he's pretending to get winded every time he runs and his clumsiness almost seems fake.

There is **some** real clumsiness when he trips over a chair in the kitchen, or when he knocks something over in a crowded room. But he's also got this ease and agility to him, this sureness in his being and his strides that I've never seen him have before.

Although he claims to remember everything from before his disappearance, I can see him get confused over past inside jokes and occurrences, forgetful of important events and just straight up not recalling people's names. He almost seems to forget his own name, often having delayed reactions when people call it. It's odd as Stiles (along with Lydia) was always the smart one of the group, the one who knew everything and figured things out. The research guy.

The worst, however, is how I can never tell when he's lying. Before he disappeared, I used to know him like the back of my hand. Now he's more serious, perceptive and deceptive. He sometimes gets this guarded look whenever someone says something the wrong way, he's constantly looking out the windows as if expecting someone to come and attack him and he seems fascinated by the sun. Whenever I try to figure him out, I just can't. I can't tell if he's being truthful, omitting truths or even flat out lying. His heartbeat constantly remains steady and his face, although almost never truly stoic, reveals nothing, other than the surface emotion he's trying to portray. It's unnerving and slightly scary.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he's back. He's my best friend and I've missed him in these six months. Those months where I thought he was dead were the most horrible of my life. Of course, I've had the pack there for me, and I was constantly kept busy by the dangers of Beacon Hills and it's supernatural residents. During the day, it was easy for me to forget what was missing.

But at night, when things would calm down, I would find myself lying awake, missing and longing for my best friend, the one who never let me down, the one who I told everything.

On those lonely nights, I had Allison, then Kira to keep me company, taking my mind off the sadness. I've never been more grateful to anyone in my life. Now that Stiles is back, I finally feel whole, like that part missing from my life is finally here. And in a way it is, there is no life without Stiles.

Which is why I convince myself that everything's fine. Stiles must just feel awkward, and out of place in this world that has obviously managed to somehow move on without him (though with difficulty). I convince myself he just needs space, that sure, I should hang out with him but also leave him to adjust to his life.

And so that's what I do. I go to school, hang out with Kira and try to imagine that there's no way anything could be wrong with Stiles.

And over those four days, things do get better. Stiles starts to act, well, more like Stiles. I really hope that he's truly adjusting, and not just getting better at playing into our expectations.

Well, it's too late to change anything right now anyway. The next morning is Stiles' first day of school since he's returned. That's when he finally fully enters society and meets up with everyone he's been avoiding. He seems ready enough, even though he's still got a few of those little, strange tendencies he's been sporting since he's gotten back.

I sincerely hope everything goes at least satisfactory. But knowing our life and just Stiles in general, that's the best I can hope for.


End file.
